


The Firefly Chamber

by for_kudryavka



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Depression, M/M, mentions of self harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-17
Updated: 2015-12-17
Packaged: 2018-05-07 05:46:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5445449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/for_kudryavka/pseuds/for_kudryavka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>“Those are stars. That's what beautiful creatures like you become when they die.”</i><br/>When Baekhyun found him, he was beautiful. But he didn't last long. Nothing beautiful ever does. So he's hoping that the fireflies won't let him go.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Firefly Chamber

**Author's Note:**

> hello.  
> i'd like to thank my beta _faultypromises_ who gave me endless support and motivation.  
>  i hope you enjoy _the firefly chamber_ as much as i enjoyed writing it:)

_Why do fireflies_  
have to die so soon?  
-Setsuko (Grave of Fireflies)

 

“Come in” was what he said before Baekhyun even reached the door, hands pale against the cold, metallic tray. There was no need for the invitation, Baekhyun usually just waltzed in, but saying it gave Chanyeol a slight twinge of reassurance so Baekhyun simply indulged it. There was no need to pry; Baekhyun knew he hated questions.

The door creaked with a noisy grunt, scraping the floor to add new scars and the chill that welcomed him made him stumble a few steps backward. The temperature was always inconsistent, never stable _( Just like him )_ ; sometimes it was scorching hot, so hot Baekhyun's sweat would just evaporate before it could even trickle, and sometimes it was just warm, the kind that settles subtly between cold and hot. Most of the time, however, it was cold. Too cold. Freezing, even. 

Baekhyun neatly placed the tray in front of him and watched in amazement as white fog appeared when he sighed. “I brought your favourite today, I thought you needed to add a few more pounds. Tell me if it worked.” An old and definitely close to broken weighing scale hid in the corner, dust collecting on the glass. Baekhyun frowned. There was no point in talking to him about his health. “It's kimchi soup. Originally, it was supposed to be _warm_ kimchi soup, but now,” he smiled lopsidedly as the metal spoon clang against the frozen surface. “Now, it's popsicle.”

“Thank you. That's very kind of you,” Chanyeol answered formally, eyes still staring out the frost-glazed window that displayed nothing but empty blue sky and a shining summer sun. Baekhyun took the opportunity to admire his refined features that appeared too delicate to measure; his apparent jaw line, his elf-like ears that perked amusingly (Baekhyun once laughed about it and he got himself a burnt eyebrow –unfortunately, Chanyeol didn't find it as hilarious as he did), his pale skin that glowed ethereally as the slivers of warm sunlight that escaped the cracks illuminated it, exposing his pores and making it seem extra smooth, his unkempt, tousled brown hair. The list goes on. But the number one on that list, the one that drew Baekhyun in the most was his eyes. They weren't human eyes; there was nothing human about them. To Baekhyun, they were made of glass, of precious chocolate gems, of thousands of stars. He could look at Baekhyun with that pair of sweet, mesmerizing eyes and show him a galaxy. In them, Baekhyun could see his future.

“Stop staring.” He was still looking out the window, knees up to his chest and strong hands locked around them.

Baekhyun huffed. “Well, you could at least look at me when you're talking. It's not proper courtesy, you know. It's rude.” A draft breezed past him from God-knows-where and the door shut loudly behind them. Baekhyun was about to lecture him again on etiquette when something began to rain down upon the both of them. He brought his hand up unconsciously and smiled when he realized what they were. “It's snowing,” he breathed, marvelling at the sight of a tiny drop of snowflake that melted unto his palm. More poured down on him, dancing around him like petite faeries flying about and Baekhyun stretched his hands to capture them.

He turned when he heard a small, hearty chuckle and smiled when he saw a gleeful smile stretched on Chanyeol's lips, brightening his features and transforming him into something else. “You look like a child.” His deep voice resonated in the air, echoing throughout the room so that the sound bounced repeatedly. 

Baekhyun pushed the tray containing a frozen kimchi soup accompanied by a bowl of rice with several pieces of finely-cut carrot sprinkled on top of it and a glass of water. “Not bad yourself,” was all that he said as he watched Chanyeol carefully nibble bits of the carrot, the first thing he always popped into his mouth when eating his meal and spared a smile; he was so much better smiling. That look he always had, the look of tiredness, of age, of loneliness...the defeated look he always had on him had always scared Baekhyun and knocked the breath out of his lungs.

“Wait!” Chanyeol suddenly exclaimed when Baekhyun stood up, his eyes wide and a hand outstretched in front of Baekhyun's face. “Don't go yet.” His drink was knocked off the tray and the liquid that spilled turned to shimmering ice. Snowflakes whirled around them, conveying Chanyeol's anxiety in their little dance. His posture relaxed when Baekhyun shook his head and awkwardly sat next to him. “Sorry,” Baekhyun frowned in irritation because Chanyeol's habit of looking out the window or anything else but his face when speaking felt like an insult. “I didn't mean to scare you.”

“Rather than scaring me, you should be more sorry about never looking at me. You don't know what you're missing.” Baekhyun nudged him when Chanyeol spluttered before breaking into a fit of childish laughter. He turned to look directly at Baekhyun, enthralling him with his pools of caramel brown and golden sparks as he said 'Is that so?' to which Baekhyun replied with a blushing face and pointedly turned to look the other way instead.

The silence they shared between themselves felt nice and warm despite the cold of winter that gathered in the corner of this small attic. Baekhyun could hear Chanyeol's even breathing as he carefully dragged a finger across the floor, drawing stars and Chanyeol and other beautiful things. One, two, three...one, two, three...this silence, this moment they shared between them, this was their waltz. 

_(This was home.)_

The sudden weight on his shoulders surprised him and brought an abrupt stop to his painting. “Now I understand...what you tried to say to me...” His voice was low but clear, and very gentle as they occupied every inch of the crystal space. Baekhyun didn't question the reason to his singing. He didn't interrupt when his voice shook slightly before gaining back its strength. Instead, he sat transfixed, reminding himself to breathe. “And how you suffered for your sanity...And how you tried to set them free...”

Carefully carved snowflakes rained on just the two of them. They weren't beautiful anymore. They weren't dancing. They simply dropped as if being alive no longer mattered. One melted as it dropped on Baekhyun's cheek, leaving only a drop of cold liquid that trickled down to the corner of his lips. It felt strange how the snowflake did the crying for him. “They would not listen, they're not listening still...Perhaps...they never will...” His melancholic voice was suddenly nothing more than just a sound, a lonely noise to fill in the unoccupied gap that existed between them two.

They stayed quiet as he ended the song, his hair swaying lightly like mahogany ember of a fading fire as a breeze of warm air from outside blew past them. “It's such a sad song,” he whispered, turning to look at him with eyes that viewed the world in monochrome. Gone were the jewels and gems and diamonds that twinkled inside them. Gone all but the look of fear and forlorn and pain beyond Baekhyun's comprehension. “An elegy as a graceful tribute to a human in a monster's disguise.

“And in the end, they destroyed someone as beautiful as him. Because that's what you do best, isn't it?” His gaze was unwavering and bold, as if daring Baekhyun who chose not to speak to challenge his truth. Baekhyun cringed at Chanyeol's venomous question, understanding that it was rhetorical but struggling not to say the answer aloud. Yes, I suppose, that's what we do best.

We --“Destroy.”

_(Because the world created the monsters and won't pay for it)_

**  
The summer heat was slowly cooling off and the vast blue sky of day melted into a canvas of painted orange with a rosy pink hue. Stars were beginning to appear like glowing dots in the distance, blinking infinitely into shades of red, blue and white. Baekhyun came to a stop as he approached the house, its shadow looming tauntingly over him but when he began to walk again, his steps were vibrant and playful.

It's been aeons since he felt excited over an illogical purpose and he remembered with a pang how he missed the feeling of how his heart would skip a beat at the idea of having a reason to come home to. It felt strangely wonderful how when he looked up to where the attic was, the house looked as if it was a single entity; a being welcoming him home. He knew he was looking; watching as Baekhyun fumbled over his keys to the main door, smiling when he nearly tripped on the doormat that said 'Home Sweet Home' in faded blue words and sighing perhaps in relief when Baekhyun closed the door behind him before announcing with voice as joyful as the jingle bells, “I'm home!”

He hummed his way up the stairs, swinging the bag containing chocolate buns back and forth at each step that he took. “Chanyeol, you up to some ramyun? There's this restaurant everyone's been talking about.” He was surprised by how giddy he felt but the house felt brighter and his shoulders felt lighter. The colours, it seemed, had returned once again to paint his life. _It's about time._ No more of the dull grey that had been twisting his life around a snake-like vein, rapturing his beliefs and mutilating his existence.

_(But time was never on our side)_

The heat that radiated off the room rushed to him like crashing waves, causing him to stumble a few steps back. “Woah, Chanyeol, what is up with this heat? If you wanted summer so bad, you just have to go out and enjoy the sun.” The door fell of its hinges as he pushed, leaving only the naked doorframe and the grunting sound it created collided against the walls, echoing eeriely throughout the entire house. The house was alive, grinning, snickering. “Chanyeol?” The room was a different dimension altogether.

It was as if the whole of winter itself had collected in the darkest corner of the room where Chanyeol sat fidgeting, his stature small and docile. Time, it seemed, slowed down. “Hey,” Baekhyun whispered but he didn't like how uncertain it sounded and how the cool wind that carried his voice felt unforgiving. There was no ice this time, no snowflakes, no mist. Nothing. There were only them and the terrifying cold that patronized Baekhyun to his bones. “Hey, what's wrong?” 

Baekhyun's steps were frozen to the spot and he watched, as Chanyeol turned around to face him, how his world crumbled. Chanyeol gave him a small smile and gestured for Baekhyun to come closer but Baekhyun refused to oblige, standing further away so that Baekyun could easily run off if he felt the need to escape. _But from what? Him?_

“Baekhyun,” Chanyeol called, massaging his foot. Baekhyun never noticed how dirty the room was, with all the dust that was scattered on the floor. It took him a moment to process that the dust was scattered only around Chanyeol. And it was only when Chanyeol called out once more, hand extended to reach out to him, that Baekhyun realised it with sheer terror. That Chanyeol's hand was missing fingers. 

They weren't cut off or detached but even here from where he stood, here in this attic where sunlight could offer only the dimmest of lights, Baekhyun could make out the specks of dusts that pelted down from where the fingers used to be. He spared only a momentary glance to look at his foot and inspected how there were cracks on the foot Chanyeol was massaging. _You should stop rubbing it,_ Baekhyun was tempted to say, _it'll only come off faster._ It was useless, Chanyeol's efforts. Dust was pouring off from the cracks and the silhouette of his foot was thinning. 

“Baekhyun,” Chanyeol's smile struck a chord and Baekhyun took a step backwards before looking away from the eyes that brimmed thickly with ennui. What should he say? What should he do? What could he do? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. The cold grew into him, instilling deeply into his skin and penetrating his being until all he felt was the focus point of his pain. Baekhyun could hear the pounding of his heart against his ribcage and the anxious throbbing that was his heartbeat.

_“It's happening.”_

The contents of the bag spilled and smashed into small, crystal pieces as Baekhyun turned and fled, the sound of his footsteps fading gradually.

_(The grey came back)_

**  
Chanyeol appeared when the days of emptiness dragged on longer than usual and the frost that had occupied the season finally melted into lonesome puddles on broken paths and crooked roads. Baekhyun had been contemplating whether or not to stay in bed or to join his colleagues for a mixer which he wasn't fond of but a fleeting image of a growling Sehun forced him to choose the former. Life had been cruel to him so as to bless him with his dream job but with disagreeable colleagues and a boss that deserved eternal damnation (at least, that's what he thought). Not to mention his failed relationships and friendships which had left him broken and unmended for several years. His life was that of a marionette, controlled by everyone but him and he was too tired and numb to take control so he was fine with it. He was desolation itself, his life barren, his days trapped in a shell.

And then there was a thump. And another. And another. It came from directly above him, the isolated attic he never bothered to explore even after years of owning the old, tragic house. Baekhyun was at first unbothered, skeptical at the idea of an unearthly spirit seeking leisure at his fright. “Maybe it's the pipes...” he muttered, rummaging his shelves for decent clothes but the screechings got worse and louder by the second. Irritation and strange curiousity bloomed from deep in his chest, manifesting his boredom and cynicalism into something oddly beautiful, nagging him to wander up the stairs and discover.

Sehun called but his hysterical voice on the other end of the line was just that; something that wasn't there. But something was here in its stead, currently something else existed in this aging house of his and all of the sudden, the absence of anything important that had accompanied his life for years had become very suffocating. So he told Sehun that he was busy, that he couldn't make it and ended the call as Sehun's anger burst in a groaning voice.

“Who's there?” Baekhyun called from his room, knowing that whoever was in the attic could surely hear him but the only response he received was the awful scraping on the wooden floor. There was a grunt, as if something large was moving about and ashes rained down on him from between the gaps. Baekhyun wasted no time in racing towards the stairs, fists clenching and unclenching as he thought of what he should do should he cofront this intruder.

His pace slowed as he began to ascend and he stoppped just a few steps away from the door, taken aback by how portending the door seemed. “I know you're in there!” Something held Baekhyun back from barging in so instead, he stayed quiet and counted to five before he lunged at the door, slamming it open with his shoulders.

The condition of the place had him silenced and for a moment, he forgot how to breathe. The world had suddenly detached itself from him, or perhaps vice-versa. Either way, it didn't matter. He watched with a gaping mouth at the green grass that was carpeted beneath his feet, growing from the floors themselves. Tulips grew beside bushes and here and there were cherry blossom petals scattered. Spring grew in this small space of an attic, and it grew around the person that sat watching him from the centre of the room, the tulips surrounding and leaning towards him. 

Baekhyun gasped and as it grew darker, to the point that Baekhyun's squinting eyes could barely make out the silhouette of the lean figure, the man's face was illuminated by glowing creatures that flew and spread themselves to fill in the entire space. Despite the availability of an escape, none of the creatures flew out of the room. They remained in the room, making everything feel alive, creating an image Baekhyun was sure never to forget. They were stars. They were – “Fireflies...” Baekhyun breathed as one of them landed on his nose, glowing vibrantly.

“Hello,” The man called out with a strong, deep voice, much to Baekhyun's surprise and the passing glow of a firefly lent Baekhyun enough light to be entranced by the man's eyes. _A river,_ Baekhyun instantly thought, _a river of shining chocolate swirls._ The firefly's glow wasn't as enchanting anymore. “Hello...” his voice died out and he coughed awkwardly as if he hasn't adjusted to his voice yet. To being there. “Who am I?” The fireflies glowed brighter, singing out his existence. His entire gestures were accompanied by the swift movements of the fireflies.

There was magic in his words, in the way his eyes blinked up at him, in the fact that his presence instantly brought a smile to Baekhyun's face. By raw instinct and through vague memories of a past he didn't dare to recall, Baekhyun knew what to call him.

_(And so he named him Chanyeol)_

**  
It had been several days since Baekhyun saw him last but the image of his decaying haunts him still in his nightmares, in his reflections, in his drinking during ill hours of the day. Several attempts of confronting reality had been made and each time he looked away from the unbearable truth that had slapped him hard on his face, it leaves its red mark burning in his heart. 

He traced the glaring scar on his wrist, surprised by how much the pain it brought marvelled him in his lonesome. The new scar was merely an addition to the album of scars he already had displayed on his arms, burn marks and strokes of thin scabs by Swiss knives tattooed permanently. He prided himself in his artwork. They were reminders of his happiness that lingered constantly and Baekhyun felt that the only way for them to stay with him forever is to have them engraved. And so, as he thought back of when he first saw Chanyeol, he pressed the knife into his skin, not deep enough however to draw blood.

With a gasp, Baekhyun choked a sob and the cold of the knife disappeared as it left his grip, laying dead on the floor. This was the first time he was ashamed of what he was doing to himself, the first time that crying helped. In his room just below the attic with his curtains drawn, Baekhyun hugged and cradled himself by his bedside, digging his nails deep into his skin because the pressure comforted him. “I don't want this anymore,” He cried, holding his head and pulling on locks of disheveled hair. Dust fell onto him. For a moment, Baekhyun wondered if he was going to slowly turn into dust as well. 

But he knew the answer to that. And, screaming, he grabbed onto a photo frame and threw it against the wall across him. The screaming didn't help so he strained his voice louder, feeling his own voice scratch the back of his throat as he began grabbing on things and throwing them across the room, loving how the mess looked better compared to the clean and clinical look his room had before. A flurryof cottonballs imitated a storm of snowflakes when he found and dragged the Swiss army knife along his bed mattress, tearing it open satisfyingly. 

“No more!” He yelled, stabbing the mattress over and over again, the tears streaking down his cheeks. His muscles ached, he was tired to his bones, he felt old. The knife handle was warm against his cold fingers as if it had blood pulsing in it. The fact that it felt alive angered Baekhyun even more so he threw it as well, watching it clatter to the floor, beautifying the mess he had created. _I'm such a child,_ he dropped to his knees, staring up at the ceiling and painfully clutching his heart as he breathed heavily. _I'm only throwing a tantrum._ “I'm a monster and yet,” he looked around at the new image of his room before looking back up at the ceiling, “I created such a beautiful mess.”

The silence that had him contained shattered when a tentative knocking on the ceiling brought him back from his reminiscing. More dust fell. “More and more...” he whispered as he listened to the knocking. Chanyeol must have heard the commotion. Baekhyun appreciated his consideration in not interrupting because he knew Chanyeol didn't understand why he did what he did and that he didn't want to understand. _(How destructive humans can be.)_

“Baekhyun...” Chanyeol cooed, his voice closer than ever and Baekhyun smiled at the image of Chanyeol pressing his cheek against the floor only to call out to him. He knocked again, probably out of reassurance as if he was tapping out a Morse code for help. “Baekhyun, aren't you coming up to visit? Please...”

Baekhyun stood up and began cleaning, making sure that he didn't graze himself as he picked up the broken pieces of his glass frames and other what-nots that he had thrown. He frowned in confusion when he picked up his cellphone and his face fell when he discovered that he broke it, rendering it impossible for any purposes. “I just bought the damn thing too.” 

Chanyeol's knocking was more insistent, demanding attention which Baekhyun unwillingly indulged because he knew that if anything, Chanyeol was a reality he could not escape to or from. “Baekhyun,” he was begging now, his voice pitiful and Baekhyun's hardened gaze softened. He was already fine dealing with the mess on his own but the fact that he dragged and left Chanyeol alone to face the reality Baekhyun created was merciless. He never knew he could be so cruel. “It's so lonely up here.

_(I don't want to say I missed you.)_

“Won't you stay with me?”

_(It's because you're leaving. It's heartwrenching.)_

“I never left, Chanyeol.” He spoke and the tears threatened to fall. “I've always been here. I never left.” _(You never left.)_

Chanyeol was quiet for a moment before he spoke again, his voice suddenly lively as if he just sprang back to life. “Baekhyun, look. The moon—it looks like a manju bun.” Baekhyun sighed defeatedly, knowing that Chanyeol wanted Baekhyun to humour him and so he walked to the window with relunctant steps, drawing the window curtains apart to look up at the naked sky. The moon was glowering down at him, a dull, yellow ball amidst the ocean of stars. Overall, Baekhyun concluded it was attractively boring. “Doesn't it look gorgeous?”

Baekhyun smiled. It must be nice to see the beauty in anything ugly. “Yeah,” he lied. He doesn't want Chanyeol to be sad anymore; he's had enough to last him a lifetime but his time is running out. His happiness is dying. Baekhyun abandoned the clutter and moved towards the door, feet heavy but heart ready. He recalled the nights when he lay awake on his bed, mind still driven by adrenaline as he played back the scene recorded permanently, staring up at the ceiling and as if he was clairvoyant, made out Chanyeol's silhouette when he whimpered or cried softly like the wind. How sad must it be to have nothing but shadows as your audience to watch when you cry and provide the comfort you need from another human's presence. 

Not anymore, Baekhyun decided as he stepped into the room, nothing more than a breeze to welcome him _home_. Chanyeol turned away from the window, the moonlight slithering into the room wearily irradiating his pale features. “Hey,” the stars were drawing in closer, inviting the both of them to join them for the night. Their shadows mingled together to become one person. Baekhyun ignored the way the shadow reflected their vulnerability so plainly.

“Hey,” he drew out his hand from his pocket and with a knowing smile, Chanyeol gladly accepted.

_(It's time to go home.)_

**  
_Baekhyun asked him once how long has he lived. Chanyeol looked at him oddly and said with a neutral expression that he wasn't living. “But you're alive,” Baekhyun muttered indignantly, eyes widening as if to emphasise his point. Chanyeol gave a bright smile that spoke of mischief and defiantly said,_

_“No. I exist.”_

**

By the time they left the house, Baekhyun discovered that Chanyeol was no longer able to walk or stand. He found out when Chanyeol suddenly collapsed down the stairs, leaving a dirty trail of dust behind. Chanyeol couldn't face him, shoulders trembling as he looked down, ashamed that he let Baekhyun see him so frail. Baekhyun looked away when he picked him up into his arms, his weight unsurprisingly light and he didn't utter a word when Chanyeol leaned against his chest, crying weakly.

They left together, the street deserted and the stars that night which shone with incredible brilliance, blinked solemnly. The ground felt unstable, as if any moment it would gape its jaw wide open to swallow them whole but he continued walking, his legs moving automatically to a destination he knew by heart. Inwardly, they both struggled to avoid feeling giddy but it was almost inevitable. Just the two of them sharing heartbeats, witnessed by none other than the stars...their presence were their solitude, a sanctuary and this quiet walk was a secret that merged their existence together. 

“Baekhyun, look. The fireflies are glowing again tonight,” Baekhyun smiled and turned to face the heaven, following Chanyeol's gaze. “Always so close, always so distant. You know, I always thought that they keep the secrets of the world in their glow.” Baekhyun's grip tightened around Chanyeol's fragile body, making sure to be gentle so as to not break him any faster.

He smiled and turned to look at Chanyeol but he wasn't looking up anymore. He wasn't looking at anything. “Those are stars,” Baekhyun said in a hushed voice, leaning close to whisper it by his ear, “that's what beautiful creatures like you become when they die.” Their eyes were locked with each other before they chuckled rythmically, their voices booming under the wavering light of the lampposts, their cheeks coloured rosy pink. The wind blew over the trails they left behind; for Chanyeol, it was his existence; for Baekhyun, it was his past that had him chained in an iron vice. The wind that blew past them gave them tingles.

The houses gave away to tall trees with leaves that fluttered as they walked past. The sweet heat of summer was drowned by the overwhelming cold of the stillness. The street melted into a broken path covered by dead leaves and twisted branches that broke beneath Baekhyun's weight as he trudged on. Chanyeol's weight suddenly felt heavy and the burden of accepting became so unbearable that Baekhyun was threateningly tempted by the idea of just leaving and to sleep till morning. 

It was when it came to view that Baekhyun panicked and his fingers twitched anxiously. He jerked to a stop, eyes widening, hands shaking as he faced it with unveiled fright. The colours were drained off his cheeks and as pathetic as it was, he began hyperventilating. The land was vast and the hideous knowledge it contained smothered Baekhyun to no end. “Baekhyun?” Chanyeol asked and brought his hand, the one with several fingers still intact, to his cheek.

“Baekhyun, what's wrong?” Slowly, Chanyeol faced what it was that had him fixed to the spot and understanding dawned on him. He smiled mirthlessly as Baekhyun continued a few steps before his legs gave away and he fell helplessly to his knees just a hand's-distance away from the grey tombstone that stared stoically at them. “I understand now.”

He brought his hand to caress the rough surface, lips trembling at the sudden urge to cry as his remaining fingers, which were already turning into dust, grazed the words that were engraved deeply into it. Written in cursives was a single name: _Park Chanyeol_ , the years somehow faded. Chanyeol struggled to keep himself collected but he managed to keep his words from spilling all over and tumbling over each other. He looked at Baekhyun and the expression he wore brought more pain to his heart than this heart-wrenching realisation ever could. It tore him apart but when he spoke again, his voice was stronger. “I understand. It's okay, Baekhyun. It's okay,” He smiled. _(because that was the only thing he could do for him)_ “You're okay.” He stroke his tear-streaked cheek, wiping away the tears that welled up in the corners of his eyes.

Baekhyun had always been delicate, had always been prone to all the pain the world could thrust upon him, had always been so vulnerable. _But Baekhyun,_ Chanyeol figured, _that's why you're the brave one between us. You were home._

“I'm sorry,” Baekhyun choked between sobs and hiccups, head shaking in denial and his entire being fell downcast, his forehead touching Chanyeol's. “I...I coulnd't protect you. I'm so sorry.” His entire body was trembling, his voice shaking, his soul wavering. Chanyeol wrapped what remained of his hands around Baekhyun and willingly collected the broken pieces of his soul in his embrace. _It's no good. No matter how hard I hold on to you, I ended up killing us both._ Chanyeol's torso had already faded with the wind, his chest slowly crumbling.

But his eyes remained the gems they were. Baekhyun recognised the mesmerizing beauty that entranced him and breathed him back to life. In them, Baekhyun could still see his future. 

_(But a future without you is very ugly indeed.)_

“No, Baekhyun. I let you save me. I'm okay now. I'm happy. A monster can't be happy but you gave me that.”

_(How can that be? Monsters don't shed such beautiful tears.)_

Baekhyun's cries grew louder and his hands were closing in on themselves, wrapped around air. His shoulders were hunched, his face ashen, his lower lip bleeding from holding back an agonized ululation. He shook his head uncertainly, relunctantly, absently. Any moment, it seemed, he too would wither away into nothing more than a mere remainder of something that used to exist. “I don't want,” He paused, swallowing back a sob, “I don't want you to go yet. I still miss you.”

Chanyeol's gentle gaze gave him a surge of courage to accept losing him. “Baekhyun, they say when you love someone, you have to let them go. I'm sorry, I have to let you go now.” The stars fell upon them, singing to them lullabies that brought back the warmth that was stolen from them.

“Thank you, for remembering me.”

_(And in his arms, he ceased to exist.)_

_She was beautiful._  
But she was beautiful. In the way a forest fire was beautiful.  
Something to be admired from a distance. 

_Not up close.  
Neil Gaiman_

**Author's Note:**

> constructive criticisms will help me a lot:3 
> 
> Also, if you are interested in the song Chanyeol sang in the first part, it is a song originally dedicated to Vincent Van Gogh and his painting Starry Night♡ (Starry Starry Night by Don McLean)


End file.
